Post by RussianCTfan on Aug 9, 2009 20:53:38 GMT -5
Okay. This is my first time ever writing a story in English outside of English class...5 years ago. I am sorry if there are mistakes, but I tried. Hope you like it! Oh, the first part is from the point-of-view of the Gypsy, but then it switches to a man passing through, to explain the Midnight Well. Hope you don't mind another Midnight Well related story!
The air was alive with a certain energy as he rode through. The gypsy man could sense that someone -or some thing- was unwelcome. He shrugged this off and continued down the dry, worn path. In the distance he could see a candle burning. Probably an inn... he thought, digging his heels into the side of the black horse beneath him. The horse responded by quickening his pace, carrying the duo closer and closer to the outskirts of the tiny town. The horse snorted, causing the gypsy man to chuckle softly. He was always amused at his horse's antics. The sound stopped as the entered the town; the only thing that was heard was the steady beat of the horse's trot. He stopped outside of the inn, which was the source of light that was seen. He tied up his horse, heading inside.
The moment the gypsy stepped into that inn, people stopped to stare. They had never seen anything like him; dark tunic and pants, hair black as coal, a single earring made of gold, and his eyes. His eyes were alive with a fire never seen in these parts before. The gypsy smiled lightly, shrugging off the stares of the people, and sitting up at the bar. Almost immediately, a barmaid appeared, asking him what he wanted to drink. “Just an ale,” he said, an accent detectable that was certainly not from the area. When she brought his drink, the gypsy's eyes met with the woman. She was very, very fair, with long, light brown hair and cheerful blue eyes. When their eyes locked, the man smiled, clearing his throat. “What would your name be, miss?” he asked, dark eyes searching to the left and right of him, in case somebody was trying to overhear.
“My name is Rose,” she said, offering the gypsy a small smile. “What is your name?” she asked, not knowing what to expect.
“Don't tell anybody, but the name's Ryan. Listen, I must be going now, so here is your money,” he said, handing Rose a few gold coins. “And here is something for you,” Ryan said, handing her a piece of folded paper. He got up, walking a few paces before turning around. “Open that alone,” he said, putting extra emphasis on the word 'alone.'
Outside, Ryan swung into the saddle. He glanced up at the full moon, smiling. He headed in the direction of the mysterious looking well on the edge of town. He had told Rose he wanted to meet her at that particular well in order to give her something before he left. She would have no idea what was coming, that is for sure.
Over the horizon came the dark silhouette of the well. It was just a circle of built up stones, but in the moonlight, every speck of rock shimmered, giving it a mysterious yet beautiful appearence. He walked his horse over to an overgrowth of trees, attempting to shroud himself until he saw Rose. Ryan waited for hours, watching the moon drift higher and higher in the sky. At the moment the moon was directly above the well, Rose appeared. He watched her walk around the well, hands feeling the stones. He decided to make his move when she leaned over the edge, no doubt gazing at the reflection in the water below.
Ryan quickly made his way around Rose silently. He stood behind her, waiting for her to see him in her reflection. He heard a gasp a few seconds later, smiling as she whirled around to face him. “Hello, Rose. So glad you could come,” he stated, his deep brown eyes flaming with passion and mystery. He was always told his eyes had the power to hypnotize any lady, and it was no doubt working with this fair maid. She moved closer to him, hands gently rubbing her arms in an attempt to get warmer. Ryan noticed this almost immediately, taking off his tunic and wrapping it around her. He watched with intent eyes as Rose glanced him over. A small smirk appeared on his face as he walked around her.
“Rose...Come away with me, come here and lay with me,” he said, watching with an amused expression as she gasped at the mention of the latter. Before she could reply, Ryan continued. “Come away out of the light. Come away and come ride with me into the night,” he said, offering the maid his hand to take. The fire in his eyes grew with fierce intensity as the warmth of her hand entered his. He led Rose to where the horse was, helping her into the saddle after he himself had sprung up. Ryan dug his heels sharply into the side of the animal, watching as the well became merely a distant dot, bathed in the moonlight. He felt Rose's hands around his bare waist, causing him to smirk to nobody in particular. She has no idea what is coming... he thought as the trio headed further and further away from the town.
They were never seen again.
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Ten years later, on one fine summer night in late August, a man happened to stop in an inn for a bit of refreshment. When he walked in, people didn't pay too much attention; what could really be wrong with a man that had pale blue eyes, light brown hair and modestly dressed? When the barmaid placed a drink in front of him, a peculiar question was posed. “Excuse me, miss? I was wondering if you could tell me about that little well I saw on the way in? It was quite lovely, especially as the moon began to rise and bathe it in light,” he said, a confused expression on his face as she and the rest of the inn gasped.
“My good man, surely you don't mean the 'Midnight Well,' do you?” she asked, waiting with barely a breath while the man thought.
“If this 'Midnight Well' you speak of is the one outside of the town, then yes,” he said, looking at all of the shocked faces around him.
One old man stepped forward, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. “Sir, I will tell you the tale of the Midnight Well if you take a seat and listen. Everyone is welcome to hear,” he said, smiling lightly as the man took a seat. The sound of scraping chairs filled the tiny room as everybody gathered around to hear. Even the barmaids stopped serving drinks and pulled up a seat to listen. The old man took a deep breath, starting to recall the tale.
“I still remember that day like it was yesterday, though it would be about ten years ago now. The night was unusually muggy, and there was something uneasy in the air. It reminds me of tonight, actually. Anyway, it was still early in the evening, but a man came into this very pub that reminded everyone in there, including myself, of midnight. He was quite tall, dressed all in black, with hair blacker than coal and a single gold earring in his ear. It was quite an unusual sight for these parts, that's for sure. None of us had any idea where he came from. The most impressive, and probably the most notable, were his eyes. I know I remember it well... Dark brown, almost black, but there was a hypnotic sense about them. Almost like a fire was being lit behind them. It scared us all,” the man said, taking a swig of his ale before continuing.
“When he sat down at the bar, none of us thought anything of it, really. He drank one drink, then left. We thought we heard the last of who we call 'The Gypsy.' Oh, no. When the barmaid, Rose was her name, didn't show up for work the next evening, the town was shocked. She was the fairest maid in town, a true beauty, but easily persuaded into anything. She definitely went her own way, and that night, I watched her set out on her own,” he said, taking yet another drink from his mug. By now, all of the people in the inn were on pins and needles, waiting to hear what happened next to the beautiful and fair maid.
“People say she had a rendezvous at that well that night. Probably with that gypsy man, whom she barely knew, I might add. That was Rose, though. Anyway, the whole town searched around the woods and around that well. Nothing. She was gone, and never left a trace. We never saw her face again. The people of the town decided to name that well the 'Midnight Well' for one simple reason. I have heard stories from people over the past few summers say that when the summer nights start coming to an end, and the harvest moon begins to glow in the sky, a black horse will appear. That isn't the strangest thing, though. People have claimed to see a gypsy man on that horse riding by, almost like a ghost. But everyone says they can hear something if they listen closely. Every single person I have talked to said it is 'Come away with me, come here and lay with me. Come away out of the light. Come away, come and ride with me into the night.' I have never heard it, but I certainly believe the witnesses,” the old man said, looking around at the shocked faces. He knew the tale would be a bit scary, but it had to be told.
The man who had wandered into the bar in the first place thanked the old man for telling the story. Before he got up, an older lady put her hand on his shoulder, a look of concern on her face. “Hon, if I were you, I'd stay away from that Midnight Well. It is dark and evil, or so they say. I wouldn't go there myself, but if you want to, just be careful,” she said, offering a weak smile. The man thanked her, paid the barmaid, and left. He looked up in the sky, noting the moon was almost right in the middle of the sky. It was a full moon, too. He decided to take a walk up to the Midnight Well again to see why it was so “evil.” After about thirty minutes of walking, he saw the well.
The stones were nearly perfectly smooth, and shimmered in the moonlight. It was amazing. He felt the well, smiling as the moon was now directly overhead. The man looked down in the water at his reflection. There was something odd about it, though. He looked closer. There in the reflection was a man with black hair, a gold earring and a fire in his eyes. The man whirled around, thinking he had just seen the gypsy. It couldn't have been him...could it? he thought, gasping as he witnessed a most surprising sight. There, on the horizon, was a man dressed in black on a black horse. The glint from his earring could be seen reflecting in the moonlight. The wind died down suddenly, allowing the man to hear the gypsy's parting words: “Come away with me, come here and lay with me. Come away out of the light. Come away, come and ride with me into the night.”
The man sat down, his back slumped against the cold, hard stones of the well. He could not believe what had just happened. That couldn't have been real... he kept telling himself over and over again. Then, he heard it. It was much softer this time, as if somebody whispered it in his ear. ”Come and ride with me into the night.” He whirled around, for it scared him that much. There stood the gypsy man, a smirk plastered on his face. The gypsy turned his back, then left. A black horse galloped off on the horizon, leaving the man white and scared.
He knew then why the people called it the “Midnight Well.”
The air was alive with a certain energy as he rode through. The gypsy man could sense that someone -or some thing- was unwelcome. He shrugged this off and continued down the dry, worn path. In the distance he could see a candle burning. Probably an inn... he thought, digging his heels into the side of the black horse beneath him. The horse responded by quickening his pace, carrying the duo closer and closer to the outskirts of the tiny town. The horse snorted, causing the gypsy man to chuckle softly. He was always amused at his horse's antics. The sound stopped as the entered the town; the only thing that was heard was the steady beat of the horse's trot. He stopped outside of the inn, which was the source of light that was seen. He tied up his horse, heading inside.
The moment the gypsy stepped into that inn, people stopped to stare. They had never seen anything like him; dark tunic and pants, hair black as coal, a single earring made of gold, and his eyes. His eyes were alive with a fire never seen in these parts before. The gypsy smiled lightly, shrugging off the stares of the people, and sitting up at the bar. Almost immediately, a barmaid appeared, asking him what he wanted to drink. “Just an ale,” he said, an accent detectable that was certainly not from the area. When she brought his drink, the gypsy's eyes met with the woman. She was very, very fair, with long, light brown hair and cheerful blue eyes. When their eyes locked, the man smiled, clearing his throat. “What would your name be, miss?” he asked, dark eyes searching to the left and right of him, in case somebody was trying to overhear.
“My name is Rose,” she said, offering the gypsy a small smile. “What is your name?” she asked, not knowing what to expect.
“Don't tell anybody, but the name's Ryan. Listen, I must be going now, so here is your money,” he said, handing Rose a few gold coins. “And here is something for you,” Ryan said, handing her a piece of folded paper. He got up, walking a few paces before turning around. “Open that alone,” he said, putting extra emphasis on the word 'alone.'
Outside, Ryan swung into the saddle. He glanced up at the full moon, smiling. He headed in the direction of the mysterious looking well on the edge of town. He had told Rose he wanted to meet her at that particular well in order to give her something before he left. She would have no idea what was coming, that is for sure.
Over the horizon came the dark silhouette of the well. It was just a circle of built up stones, but in the moonlight, every speck of rock shimmered, giving it a mysterious yet beautiful appearence. He walked his horse over to an overgrowth of trees, attempting to shroud himself until he saw Rose. Ryan waited for hours, watching the moon drift higher and higher in the sky. At the moment the moon was directly above the well, Rose appeared. He watched her walk around the well, hands feeling the stones. He decided to make his move when she leaned over the edge, no doubt gazing at the reflection in the water below.
Ryan quickly made his way around Rose silently. He stood behind her, waiting for her to see him in her reflection. He heard a gasp a few seconds later, smiling as she whirled around to face him. “Hello, Rose. So glad you could come,” he stated, his deep brown eyes flaming with passion and mystery. He was always told his eyes had the power to hypnotize any lady, and it was no doubt working with this fair maid. She moved closer to him, hands gently rubbing her arms in an attempt to get warmer. Ryan noticed this almost immediately, taking off his tunic and wrapping it around her. He watched with intent eyes as Rose glanced him over. A small smirk appeared on his face as he walked around her.
“Rose...Come away with me, come here and lay with me,” he said, watching with an amused expression as she gasped at the mention of the latter. Before she could reply, Ryan continued. “Come away out of the light. Come away and come ride with me into the night,” he said, offering the maid his hand to take. The fire in his eyes grew with fierce intensity as the warmth of her hand entered his. He led Rose to where the horse was, helping her into the saddle after he himself had sprung up. Ryan dug his heels sharply into the side of the animal, watching as the well became merely a distant dot, bathed in the moonlight. He felt Rose's hands around his bare waist, causing him to smirk to nobody in particular. She has no idea what is coming... he thought as the trio headed further and further away from the town.
They were never seen again.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ten years later, on one fine summer night in late August, a man happened to stop in an inn for a bit of refreshment. When he walked in, people didn't pay too much attention; what could really be wrong with a man that had pale blue eyes, light brown hair and modestly dressed? When the barmaid placed a drink in front of him, a peculiar question was posed. “Excuse me, miss? I was wondering if you could tell me about that little well I saw on the way in? It was quite lovely, especially as the moon began to rise and bathe it in light,” he said, a confused expression on his face as she and the rest of the inn gasped.
“My good man, surely you don't mean the 'Midnight Well,' do you?” she asked, waiting with barely a breath while the man thought.
“If this 'Midnight Well' you speak of is the one outside of the town, then yes,” he said, looking at all of the shocked faces around him.
One old man stepped forward, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. “Sir, I will tell you the tale of the Midnight Well if you take a seat and listen. Everyone is welcome to hear,” he said, smiling lightly as the man took a seat. The sound of scraping chairs filled the tiny room as everybody gathered around to hear. Even the barmaids stopped serving drinks and pulled up a seat to listen. The old man took a deep breath, starting to recall the tale.
“I still remember that day like it was yesterday, though it would be about ten years ago now. The night was unusually muggy, and there was something uneasy in the air. It reminds me of tonight, actually. Anyway, it was still early in the evening, but a man came into this very pub that reminded everyone in there, including myself, of midnight. He was quite tall, dressed all in black, with hair blacker than coal and a single gold earring in his ear. It was quite an unusual sight for these parts, that's for sure. None of us had any idea where he came from. The most impressive, and probably the most notable, were his eyes. I know I remember it well... Dark brown, almost black, but there was a hypnotic sense about them. Almost like a fire was being lit behind them. It scared us all,” the man said, taking a swig of his ale before continuing.
“When he sat down at the bar, none of us thought anything of it, really. He drank one drink, then left. We thought we heard the last of who we call 'The Gypsy.' Oh, no. When the barmaid, Rose was her name, didn't show up for work the next evening, the town was shocked. She was the fairest maid in town, a true beauty, but easily persuaded into anything. She definitely went her own way, and that night, I watched her set out on her own,” he said, taking yet another drink from his mug. By now, all of the people in the inn were on pins and needles, waiting to hear what happened next to the beautiful and fair maid.
“People say she had a rendezvous at that well that night. Probably with that gypsy man, whom she barely knew, I might add. That was Rose, though. Anyway, the whole town searched around the woods and around that well. Nothing. She was gone, and never left a trace. We never saw her face again. The people of the town decided to name that well the 'Midnight Well' for one simple reason. I have heard stories from people over the past few summers say that when the summer nights start coming to an end, and the harvest moon begins to glow in the sky, a black horse will appear. That isn't the strangest thing, though. People have claimed to see a gypsy man on that horse riding by, almost like a ghost. But everyone says they can hear something if they listen closely. Every single person I have talked to said it is 'Come away with me, come here and lay with me. Come away out of the light. Come away, come and ride with me into the night.' I have never heard it, but I certainly believe the witnesses,” the old man said, looking around at the shocked faces. He knew the tale would be a bit scary, but it had to be told.
The man who had wandered into the bar in the first place thanked the old man for telling the story. Before he got up, an older lady put her hand on his shoulder, a look of concern on her face. “Hon, if I were you, I'd stay away from that Midnight Well. It is dark and evil, or so they say. I wouldn't go there myself, but if you want to, just be careful,” she said, offering a weak smile. The man thanked her, paid the barmaid, and left. He looked up in the sky, noting the moon was almost right in the middle of the sky. It was a full moon, too. He decided to take a walk up to the Midnight Well again to see why it was so “evil.” After about thirty minutes of walking, he saw the well.
The stones were nearly perfectly smooth, and shimmered in the moonlight. It was amazing. He felt the well, smiling as the moon was now directly overhead. The man looked down in the water at his reflection. There was something odd about it, though. He looked closer. There in the reflection was a man with black hair, a gold earring and a fire in his eyes. The man whirled around, thinking he had just seen the gypsy. It couldn't have been him...could it? he thought, gasping as he witnessed a most surprising sight. There, on the horizon, was a man dressed in black on a black horse. The glint from his earring could be seen reflecting in the moonlight. The wind died down suddenly, allowing the man to hear the gypsy's parting words: “Come away with me, come here and lay with me. Come away out of the light. Come away, come and ride with me into the night.”
The man sat down, his back slumped against the cold, hard stones of the well. He could not believe what had just happened. That couldn't have been real... he kept telling himself over and over again. Then, he heard it. It was much softer this time, as if somebody whispered it in his ear. ”Come and ride with me into the night.” He whirled around, for it scared him that much. There stood the gypsy man, a smirk plastered on his face. The gypsy turned his back, then left. A black horse galloped off on the horizon, leaving the man white and scared.
He knew then why the people called it the “Midnight Well.”